


A Case of You

by kittenCorrosion



Series: Sweet Life (Tendrew) [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016), Stranger Things: Suspicious Minds
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22427752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenCorrosion/pseuds/kittenCorrosion
Summary: It's been almost two semesters since Terry first met Andrew Rich and was welcomed into his circle of friends. After losing her parents, she wasn't sure if she could ever find a place that felt like home again. But as much as she wants to open up, she can't quite seem to admit her true feelings to herself.Because Andrew is more than a friend, and she knows it.
Relationships: Tendrew, Terry Ives/Andrew Rich
Series: Sweet Life (Tendrew) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1284635
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	A Case of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lborealis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lborealis/gifts).



Terry stared at the textbook, trying to get her eyes to focus on the words, but they kept muddling together into blurry, murky lines, as if she was staring up through water. Her thoughts sunk her deeper into her mind, the same niggling doubts pulling her down again and again. The exact thoughts she was trying to avoid. 

_It’s just one stupid party. You go to all of them. You’re not missing anything important. And they’re definitely not missing you._

Gnawing on her lip, she glanced down at her watch again, noting that it was well past eight, which meant everyone would be thoroughly out of their minds, Dave and Brenda lying on the floor of his room, staring at the tie-dye sheets that hung from his ceiling and making out. Stacey and Pete and Rosie would be finishing up whatever joint had been passed around, everyone in the living room or kitchen, talking and laughing, sharing gossip and having a good time. Andrew and Michael would be making up another stupid story about hitchhiking to D.C. and running into Ringo at a bar. Complete with shit-eating grins and lazy, heavy eyes, making everyone laugh. 

And of course the assorted strangers who would wander about, drinking and smoking and trying to somehow fit in. Terry didn’t understand it, the odd need she would see in their eyes, like they were desperate to belong. As if anyone there was unfriendly or unkind.

It was so easy to be there. She _wanted_ to be there, instead of pretending to study on a Friday night. Surrounded by the people who had become her best friends, feeling hazy and safe, sitting with her legs across the lap of—

_Stop it. They won’t even notice you’re gone. They’ll find another blonde to complete the circle and forget all about you._

It’s not like there weren’t plenty of choices. The parties were always full of girls, with their hair teased up and their eyeliner winged out, heavy lashes blinking and painted lips laughing. Gathering around Dave and Michael and Andrew, smiling and teasing, putting their manicured hands on their shoulders. 

Not that they couldn’t. Just because Terry failed to be anything but comfortable and basic when it came to clothing and looks didn’t mean she was somehow better than any of those girls. If anything it proved she shouldn’t have tried to belong in the first place. Because as easy and comforting and trustworthy her new friends were… there was a complication.

They were _Andrew_ ’s friends. And Andrew Rich was the biggest source of her doubts.

While a lot of good had come from meeting him, there had also been a firestorm of… everything. He had been right about his friends being cool. Stacey had heard Terry’s roommate dilemma and immediately welcomed her in, giving up her single room so Terry could leave Dana in the dust. Dave and Michael were always working on another rally or protest or idea, encouraging Terry to tag along and even using some of her ideas. All of them had been open-minded and angry, and she felt welcomed and finally like she had found people like _her_.

But Andrew? He was… a question mark. And a smart one with a ridiculously good-looking face and a humor that cracked her up. Their first meeting had been fun and flirty, but despite his handsome smile and dancing eyes, she’d found him… immature. His teasing overstepped its bounds, and his lackadaisical attitude had chafed her. They were barely adults, sure, but there were so many terrible things that he seemed indifferent about. He’d been raised with parents who had money and influence. There had been little he hadn’t been able to get out of. 

It made him… cocky. Which was attractive half the time but the other half? Not so much. 

So despite his advances and invitations, she’d pulled back. Sure, they went for drives still, and lately he’d even been letting her take the wheel as they cruised down gravel roads, talking about the universe and what else could be out there. Andrew had lent her a copy of _Dune_ , some science fiction story he’d raved about but that sat on her shelf. She was sure if she opened it, there would be no going back.

And she couldn’t follow where he wanted to lead her. 

He was too reckless and wild, in the way she couldn’t be. Being his friend was hard enough sometimes, when he smiled that wide, easy smile, enticing her to join him as he sprayed fake blood and ketchup on the door of the military recruitment office. Or Xeroxing anti-war posters in the office while someone distracted the secretary. Stuff that could get her kicked out. That could get _him_ kicked out.

And he didn’t care. He was willing to throw everything away for some fun or a laugh. 

How was she supposed to trust her heart to someone who could toss it aside with no thought of the pain it would cause her? He was open and honest, never expecting more than she was willing to give, and she appreciated him for being so transparent. There had been few people in her life so willing to be honest about who they were. 

But she couldn’t fully _trust_ him. And even just admitting it hurt.

_Creeeeak!_

Terry jumped in surprise as the door swung open, turning just as Stacey walked in, her cheeks flushed and out of breath. She seemed just as surprised to see her roommate, and was holding a textbook and notepad and had a general air of annoyance about her. 

“Oh, god, you scared me,” Stacey accused, shaking her head and tossing her things on her bed. “I thought you’d be gone by now.”

“Nah, I’m skipping out tonight… I have this huge paper due on Monday I need to finish.” 

Stacey snorted, going to her closet to pull out a looser fitting top than the proper sweater and blouse she had on. “It’s Friday. You always finish it on Sunday.”

“Why are _you_ still here?” Terry tried to change the subject.

“My stupid partner for this Literature class insisted we gather our sources tonight instead of next week. She’s such a square, I figured it wouldn’t be worth the fight and I’d just be late.” She’d already changed her clothes and reached up to fix her hair. “But I told Dave, he said they’d keep an eye out since I’d be walking late. Do they know you’re not coming?”

Terry tried to keep her focus on her book, shrugging noncommittally. “Does it matter?”

At that Stacey crossed the room, frowning, moving to lean against the edge of the desk facing Terry, who kept staring at her book. “I mean, yeah. I know you haven’t been around that long and we’ve all known each other since high school, but you’re just… I mean, god, it sounds stupid and cliquey, but you’re part of the group now, Terry. We all really like you. Some even more than others.”

Terry couldn’t help it, she glanced up, realizing that had been Stacey’s whole point. The dark-haired girl smirked knowingly. 

“Andrew wouldn’t have kept inviting you if he didn’t like you. I know he can be a complete idiot sometimes—” Terry let out a snort and Stacey grinned, “—okay, _most_ of the time, but he really is a solid guy. I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out. And he’s honestly been better this year too. He’s way less immature than the kid I knew who would vandalize hymnals in Sunday School.” Stacey’s eyes dragged up and down Terry. “I didn’t think he’d ever grow up, but maybe he found a reason.”

“Or maybe he’s figuring out the world is only nice to him because he’s attractive and male and white?” Terry shot back, not wanting to appear soft. As if Andrew wasn’t the biggest and softest spot on her heart.

“I think so. Maybe those long talks on all the drives you two take have actually done something.”

“They’re not _long talks_ ,” she argued, “sometimes we don’t talk at all. It’s just a nice car and he knows how to drive it well. He only talks when he lets me take the wheel—”

“Woah, wait, back up—” Stacey’s eyes were suddenly huge. “He lets you _drive_ the _Barracuda_?!”

Terry felt like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Um, just every now and then. He said I should know how to drive in case of an emergency since Becky never had the chance to show me.”

“He doesn’t even let Dave drive his precious baby, Terry,” Stacey said pointedly, a single dark brow raised. “And they’ve been best friends since third grade.”

“Well, he’s just being nice,” she tried to protest, wanting to shrug it off. But suddenly her heart was pounding. 

Stacey stared at her for another second and then harrumphed, shrugging and shaking her head but walking away from her roommate. She began to gather her things, putting on a jacket and grabbing her pocketbook. “Well, I’m gonna go, and when they ask where you are, I’ll say you’re just feeling weird. Is that fair?”

“Sure.” 

With that Stacey left, letting the door swing shut behind her, and Terry tried to pull her thoughts back to her paper, sliding her book towards herself as she slouched over in her chair. But once again her mind was racing, taking her roommate’s words and dissecting them down. In a way, Stacey _was_ right… Andrew was still reckless and an idiot—but… he had seemed to understand what they were fighting for and really take it to heart. Maybe at first it had been something fun to do, but just last month he’d managed to organize a sit-in at the campus on his own, his voice leading all of them as they cried out their dissatisfaction with what their country was doing. She’d been there, sitting on one of the blankets surrounded by her fellow students, looking up at Andrew as he raised his fist and cheered.

So, yes, he still did crazy things, painting himself up in fake blood and almost getting arrested, but he seemed different now. The consequences weren’t just another obstacle to his fun, they were his responsibility. And sure, his parents probably _could_ still get him out of things, but instead of using that as a reason to be an idiot, he was using it as an advantage, taking the place of those who would face harsher consequences. Using his voice to make those oppressed louder, taking the punishment that would destroy their lives and bouncing back.

It made Terry… proud. Even if she shouldn’t be. Because while he wasn’t her responsibility, he was her friend and… and maybe Stacey was right. She’d chastised him a lot for his flippant comments while they cruised around or walked to classes, wanting him to understand the importance of what they were doing. Educating him, maybe, on why women deserve to make their own choices about their body, something he definitely hadn’t learned about. And while at first he’d cracked too many jokes, wanting to make her break her serious tone, lately he’d been more quiet, introspective.

He was listening.

When they’d first met Andrew had seemed to mostly just go along with his friends, but in the seven months since Terry had first met him and he’d brought her into his world, he’d… grown up. 

It had been a pleasant surprise. One that made it all the easier to give in when his hand rested on her thigh or to let his arm stay around her shoulders when they were hidden in the dim lights of a movie theater. To tease and smile when they were with friends. To press her lips to his when they were alone in the dark and no one was there to see or to judge, fingers tangled in long hair, eyes hazy and breath mingling in the night. 

It was just too easy. 

No more than twenty minutes passed before she heard the telltale growl of a familiar engine outside of the dorm. Her feet were moving before she could help herself, hands pushing aside the curtains and peering down at the dimly lit drop-off area below. The shiny, olive-green Barracuda had just parked, the door opening, and she could see the dark hair that framed the familiar, pale face that was peering up at her.

Andrew knew which window was hers, waving as she appeared in the frame. He gestured to his car, beckoning her, the usual greeting they’d established when he stopped by late at night. If she didn’t come down or see him, he would end up calling her from the front desk. And then the RAs and the Dean would give her the side-eye and those _looks_ that she hated… as if she was doing something wrong for having a male friend. It’s not like he ever tried to come up to her room or something actually against the rules.

With an uncertain sigh she pulled her mother’s old, crocheted shawl from her closet, wrapping it around her shoulders as she left the room, feet plodding down the stairs. There wasn’t dread so much as just… apathy. Whatever they talked about, it wouldn’t change anything. It couldn’t.

The March chill bit at her bare calves as she left the dorm, descending the stairs, eyes on her feet. She kept her gaze low on the pavement, hoping she appeared unbothered, until the navy canvas slip-ons he usually wore came into view. Her eyes went up slowly, over the brown slacks and faded yellow button-up—missing a button, she noticed—half covered by a green jacket, until she reluctantly she met his hazel-greens, pushing her best attempt at a smile onto her lips. 

He had that easy grin on her face, but she couldn’t help but notice the worried crease between his brows, his expression matching hers. Insincere. 

“Hey, Ter,” he greeted, leaning back against his car. “What’s going on?”

“I’m just studying.” She shrugged, casual as possible. “What brings you over here?”

He licked his lips, like he was nervous, eyes bouncing from the streetlight to the front of the dorm. “I dunno, I thought you’d be coming over later with Stacey but she said you weren’t feeling good. Guess I just wanted to make sure you weren’t keeled over or something.” He finally looked at her, giving her a once over. “You look good to me.”

“I’m _fine_. I just wanted to finish my paper early for once.”

The words weren’t meant to have bite, but they did and Andrew tilted his head, hearing it in her tone. His easy grin faded and he crossed his arms, blinking, like he wanted to say something. 

Terry didn’t know what to say either. There was no good way to put what she felt into words. She couldn’t blame the haze in her mind on drugs this time, the cause of her emotional constipation standing fully before her, staring at her with confusion and worry in his eyes. 

“Ter—” He let out the breath he’d been holding and she watched him deflate, his shoulders slouching. “—did—did I _do_ something?”

“No,” she answered quickly, shaking her head. He’d only ever been a good friend. And even a little bit more. “It’s nothing, Andrew.”

At that he shook his head. “No, it _is_ something, but I don’t know what. I’ve been trying to figure out what’s wrong—if I did something. Because you hang out and have a good time and then all of the sudden you pull back. Just when I start to think—” He paused, voice catching, shaking his head. “I know I’m an idiot most of the time, okay? I get it. But I don’t try and hide it. I’ve been honest, Terry. Am I crazy for wanting you to be honest too?”

His sudden vulnerability took her by surprise and she stood there, trying to figure out how to respond to his words. He was right, he had never lied or made it seem like he was just playing around with her. When it was just the two of them it was easiest, to rest her head on his shoulder, wrap her hand in his, press a kiss to his cheek. To let the feelings overflow, to admit that she _wanted_ him. 

Because she wanted him. Badly. And while she tried to hide it around the others—only letting her legs rest in his lap when they shared the couch instead of nestling into him, keeping his arm on her shoulder instead of her waist, dodging the heated stare he would give her from across the room—when it was just the two of them like it was now, she felt a pang in her chest telling her to close the space between them and throw herself into his arms.

“I—” The words were there, but choked. It was like she was suffocating, standing in front of the boy who made her speechless. Part of her wanted to bolt, to just _get_ _away_. It would be easier than facing the truth.

Her eyes focused in on the Barracuda, in all of its gleaming glory, and she felt the sudden need to feel the world fade away and the wind in her hair, cool and freeing. She jerked her head to look back at Andrew. “Can, um, can we go for a drive?”

For a second she was sure he would say no to her absurd request, but after a moment he nodded. “Sure. Do you want to drive?”

“No, you can,” she said quickly, remembering Stacey’s earlier words as she climbed into the immaculately clean car. 

Andrew trusted her with his most prized possession. He was sitting there, less than a foot away, offering all of it to her, and yet still she hesitated. Like she had the last seven times he’d tried to bring up the obvious feelings between them.

At first it had been a joke. A why-won’t-you-date-me tease—all laughter and jokes—plying her with food and rides to work and anything she could have wanted. She’d turned down the generosity, because she didn’t want him to be able to _bribe_ her into a relationship. Then had come the begging—for dates, to the movies, to the fancy Italian place in town, to the rally. Turning him down had been fun, because he’d always laughed and swore he’d figure her out. He’d even fake proposed with a mood ring one time while they’d all been at his apartment, stoned and listening to records. If had been such a good laugh. 

Their chemistry was fun, even if she had known better than to date someone who was just so vastly… crazy. It had been a game, a dance, one they both had enjoyed.

When had it stopped being fun?

They’d made it to the outskirts of town. Andrew was king of driving aimlessly, able to keep them moving with little thought. He stayed silent, staring straight ahead as Terry struggled to find words. 

“Andrew…” She kept her eyes forward too. “I—I don’t know what you want,” she told him honestly. 

Well, mostly honestly. It wasn’t like he his intentions were a total mystery but he was enough of enigma that she couldn’t be sure. And even the smallest inch of insecurity made her question her feelings when it came to him. But she also knew all she needed to do was ask—which was why she hadn’t. Somehow the thought of knowing—something she’d always adored—was more terrifying than the blissful ignorance they’d been bubbled in for so long. 

When he spoke she knew he wasn’t lying. 

“To go steady,” he blurted, glancing over at her, brow furrowed. “To not have to pretend like I don’t want to kiss you half the time. I’m tired of—of hiding what I feel. It feels like I’m lying to all my best friends. But I didn’t want you to feel like I was pressuring you.”

At that she cocked an eyebrow, snorting. “Oh, the mood ring wasn’t supposed to pressure me?”

“I mean, no, that was just… I mean, I was trying to make you understand that I really like you. I don’t act that way with other girls. And you’re cute when you’re embarrassed so it was hard to resist.” He grinned at her, a half-believed smile, but it quickly fell and instead he let out a sigh, taking a quick turn that led them out further into the countryside. “I guess I could have been more clear but I thought you liked flirting.”

“I do. I mean—I did,” she spluttered. “I—I just, I don’t know, Andrew. I like you too, a lot but…”

Her words trailed off and she watched as he quickly pulled over into a stretch of woods that was quiet and dark. He turned off the car, reaching up to turn on the interior light so they could see each other before turning to face her. 

“But?” He supplied, eyes burning into her. 

The lack of forward momentum somehow made it easier to confess. There were only a few ways the conversation could end and being trapped in one spot suddenly made her desperate to be honest. So they could keep moving _somewhere._ Anywhere but the stagnancy they seemed to be stuck in. 

“It’s not—I mean, it’s not fun to just flirt anymore. Now I see you and I’m confused and—and _jealous_ ,” she admitted rather suddenly, reaching up as if to cover her mouth, surprised by her own words. 

His brows furrowed together, an adorable and genuine confusion filling his eyes in the dim light. “Jealous? Of what?”

The truth burst out of her, so desperate to be heard.

“Of how you are! So—so _reckless_. I can’t be like you, Andrew, I can’t do things and not care about the consequences. I want to fight like you, and be like you, and do all the things with you, but I have to finish school, I have to do this for Becky because she’s working so hard, and I promised my parents—” Her voice choked out, sudden tears filling her eyes.

“Woah, hey, babe.” His hands were on hers, voice soft. “It’s okay. I don’t expect you to do everything I do. Why do you think that?”

“Because if I don’t, I’ll be a boring square that you’ll get tired of,” she managed, pulling a hand away to wipe her nose, not wanting to see his face. “And I can’t lose another person I _love_ , Andrew. It’s too much.”

The loss of her parents still made her cry sometimes at night. It was still fresh in her mind, the pain and anguish, the hollow piece in her chest where her love for them still burned. Sure, heartbreak was different, but it was still a loss and she wasn’t ready to hand over her bruised heart while it was still bleeding. 

His hand didn’t leave hers, the warmth and commitment eventually giving her the courage to meet his eyes.

They were glowing. 

“Did you—” He looked like he was ready to burst with excitement. “Did you just say you loved me?”

“No, I—did I?” All of the sadness morphed into embarrassment in an instant. _Oh shit._ “I mean, I didn’t, I don’t—” _I do_. “I c-can’t—”

His hands found her waist, pulling her the rest of the way down the seat and into his arms, his lips silencing hers in a single smooth move. Every muscle relaxed, the doubt hushed as she let herself do the thing she’d been avoiding, what she’d been wanting so badly for so long. Her hands found his face, tugging him closer, her legs pushing her into his lap as she let her desperate want for him flood out.

He pulled back first, gasping, looking down at her with that same happy glow in his eyes. She immediately flushed, trying to pull back but his arms didn’t let her, and instead she tucked her hair behind her ears and caught her breath, trying to find words. To explain what had just happened away before he could laugh and tell her she was crazy.

But she didn’t need to.

“I love you too, Terry Ives.” She could feel his heart beating even faster beneath her palm that rested on his chest. “And I will _never_ get tired of you, babe. Just because you have to be more careful doesn’t mean you’re boring.” He finally pulled back, releasing her but staying close enough to gaze down into her eyes. “It means you’re smart. Like, the smartest person I know. You’re always asking questions and trying to learn more, figure out what’s at the bottom of it all. How could that ever be boring?”

He was gently putting every one of her fears and doubts to rest, and Terry could only gape at him, feeling the knot of anxiety that had been in her chest for months slowly ease and fade away. 

“Andrew—” 

He didn’t even let her try. “You want to overthink this, okay? I get it, you have to think about everything, but I promise you, I’m not going to do anything but love you. And I know you love me, babe.” His grin curled his lips and it had never been more perfect. “You okay with that?”

That cocky gleam was in his eyes, the one he always had when he knew he was right, the one she wanted to hate but couldn’t. He was only ever right about good things, after all. It was time her feelings became one of them—the _right_ feelings.

The months of swirling doubt seemed so silly. There was only tenderness and sincerity in his eyes, his soul an open book before that was covered with scribbles of hearts and her name. She didn’t know what the future could possibly hold, but all at once she knew she wanted him to be part of it. Maybe the whole country would be bombed to hell, maybe every young man would die in a war, maybe they would be arrested and kicked out of school. But it seemed less scary knowing his hand would be holding hers, that he would be there to ground her if everything went wrong. 

They were young and had time to figure the rest of it out. Terry suddenly saw the single strand of certainty that shone his eyes—the same one she felt beating out his name every time she breathed. 

Whatever happened, he would be there for her. Because she was enough for him. And he was everything. That she hasn’t even known she’d wanted. 

She let out a long, slow, even breath, feeling the heavy weight of doubt go with it, and then nodded. Her hands cupped his face, thumbs stroking the strong jawline of the young man who loved her so. 

The one who seemed to echo her soul in a way she could only admire and love back just as much. 

_Am I okay with that?_ It was utterly obvious. 

“Yeah. I am.” 

And then she kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> it took me way too long to finish this but i'm glad i did. it might be my last story, i don't know. i haven't like writing for a long time now, and i honestly am no longer utterly immersed in st all the time anymore. i'm busy and tired and... i dont know. i might be officially retiring from writing here which isn't a big deal in the grand scheme of things but i feel like typing it here makes it more real. 
> 
> but i don't know. maybe one day i'll want to keep going but i've realized i've stopped writing for myself and therefore have lost a lot of the joy. and i need to keep finding joy because otherwise this life will get too heavy. 
> 
> so um yeah tendrew and mileven are still a huge love of mine but there's so many writers out there still making things, that i dont' feel bad stepping away. i still want to read and watch but i have to let this part go and let myself move forward in other places.
> 
> thank you, if you're reading this, or if you've ready anything of mine. you made it worth the while and i'm grateful for all the love and encouragement that's been sent my way the past several years. 
> 
> see you around,  
> g


End file.
